Burn
by Americanwallflower
Summary: A little spin-off of a story I wrote earlier. Something goes wrong with the props and Jack suffers the aftermath. Centered around hurt!Jack and the other horsemen taking care of him. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! Thank you all so so much for the reviews and messages about "Motorcycle"! (I'm still embarrassed about the title; it's horrible). As requested, this is a one-shot (will probably end up longer) about the time that Jack burnt his arm, which I referenced in my previous story. You definitely don't have to read "Motorcycle" to understand this story, but if you like hurt!Jack, then you'd enjoy it!**

 **Hope you like this one!**

Jack slipped off his leather jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. Although reluctant to leave it behind, it was the middle of summer and not exactly leather-jacket weather.

He continued walking, making his way through the doorway onto the stage. Lula and Danny were there, scrambling to set up for that night's show. Merritt was in the audience, placing envelopes under the chairs in a very calm manner compared to the franticness of Danny and Lula's actions.

Jack caught Danny's attention as he moved closer. His gaze quickly shifted from the table he was carrying to the non-productive Jack. Aggravation soon crept into his eyes as his mind raced to find a insult-wrapped demand to hurl at the youngest horseman.

"Jack!" he snapped, "Make yourself useful, would you?"

Jack met Danny's eyes, which he had been avoiding, knowing that he would receive some kind of criticism for being 'lazy'.

"Yes, master," Jack retorted, a slight roll of his eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

Danny let out an annoyed breath, dropping the table at his feet. "I don't know, smartass! Find something to do, I'm too busy to babysit you. Just go do….. _something!_ "

"Alright," Jack muttered, not wanting to waste energy arguing with Danny, of all people. He looked around the room, trying to decide what to do. Everything was so scattered and messy that he didn't know where to start, so he turned around and kept walking, inspecting the mess of random props and unfinished projects.

He eventually stumbled upon a pile of metallic tubes, about a foot in diameter each. Confused to what they were for, he turned around to find either Merritt or Lula to help.

"Merritt! What the hell is this thing?" he called to the third row of seats, after spotting the brown fedora.

Merritt raised his head up after putting down another envelope. After quick inspection of what Jack was referring to, he yelled back, "Flame machine. Think you can set it up?"

Glancing over the pile of metal once again and locating a small booklet, Jack felt that he _could_ in fact set it up. He gave Merritt a shrug followed by a more confident nod, with which Merritt nodded back and then continued to place envelopes under the seats.

Jack shifted his focus back to the task at hand. He quickly scanned the instruction booklet, understanding the general design of the machine.

"Okay, so….." Jack began quietly talking to himself, picking up the lighter tube and placing it on top of the other one on the ground. He figured the bigger one was to go on the bottom, as it seemed to have some sort of engine in it. It was already plugged in, so he didn't need to worry about that. Placing a hand on each side of the tube, he gripped the two top edges of the opening, his hands atop as well slightly inside. He then pushed down, sealing the two pieces together. Looking down at the booklet sprawled out on the floor, he saw the diagram indicating to twist the top tube so it would align with a switch in the bottom one. He heard a click, signaling that the two pieces had aligned. After the click, an unexpected rumble sounded. Before he had a chance to react, a thick flame shot through the top of the tube.

Jack screamed out in pain, recoiling quickly. Agony burned throughout his forearm as he clutched it tightly in his hand. He soon regretted that however, as his tight grip on his now exposed flesh only worsened his pain. Grimacing profusely, he removing his hand from his charred arm. He was shocked at the extreme redness covering his forearm, accompanied by three large burn marks that seemed to go down three or four layers of skin. They had already began to blister around the edges, while bleeding slightly. His breathing was now coming in in short, ragged breaths, as the pain was increasing by the minute. Blinking back tears threatening to fall, he raised his head up to see one of the horsemen rushing over to him.

"Jack!" Merritt yelled, as he had the smallest distance between him and Jack to begin with. "What happened?!"

Vision blurred and mind functioning much slower than usual, Jack unsteadily titled his head back down to stare at his arm again. Merritt followed his gaze, jaw dropping and eyes widening as he saw the severity of the burn.

"Holy shit, kid, what did you do?" Merritt asked again, now softer and calmer, although his concerned had spiked significantly.

"I…..I….. th-the flame…." he inhaled sharply, squeezed his eyes shut and winced harshly. "Fl….ame machine…." Each breath he took was wet with tears, drowning his speech.

Merritt stepped closer to Jack, then reached out to his arm. Jack swiftly turned his body, cradling his injured arm in his good one, fearing anyone's touch.

"Jack," Merritt said soothingly, "Let me see." His eyes were soft and his face was sincere.

Jack never took his eyes off Merritt, slowly turning back to face the older man. He slowly reached out his arm, grimacing at even the slightest movement. Fighting another tear back, Jack gingerly extending his arm out, unable to control the shaking.

Merritt met Jack's eyes, pained by the fear and agony ridden in them. "There we go. I won't touch it, ok? I promise."

"O….okay," Jack sputtered out, his breaths still ragged and short.

Merritt loosely gripped Jack's elbow, holding it tight enough to prop up the rest of his arm but gentle enough to not further his pain. He examined the burns, looking at each one with more horror than the last. He felt as if he was looking down into Jack's body, due to the depth of the burns; a similar reaction to Jack's.

"Merritt," Jack croaked, voice sounding small and hoarse.

The mentalist snapped his head back to see Jack's face, tear stained cheeks under tear filled eyes.

"It hurts. Bad."

Merritt's heart broke at Jack's vulnerability and his seeming so young. "I know, buddy, you burned yourself pretty bad. We need to clean it and-"

"JACK!" Lula and Danny then arrived, slightly out of breathe from their sprint across the theater.

"What happ-" Lula began, but was then interrupted by her own gasp as she laid her eyes on Jack's charred arm in Merritt's hand.

"Oh my god," she whispered, creeping closer to the scorched limb. She reached a hand up to the burn but was quickly restrained by Merritt.

"He's in a lot of pain, we need to get him help. Soon," he explained as he lowered Lula's hand back to her side.

Lula nodded, then shifted her attention to Jack, who had temporarily slipped her mind, as she was horribly mesmerized by the severity of his wound.

"Jack," she said softly, positioning herself by his side. "Are you okay?" she asked, running a hand through his hair and wiping a tear off of his cheek. She knew the answer was obviously _no_ , but she felt the need to ask.

He met her gaze, smiling slightly as she removed the tear from his cheek.

 _No, I'm not ok at all, my arm looks like an overcooked piece of meat_ , _I've never been in this much pain in my life, just cut the goddamn thing off, PLEASE…._

"No, not really, just….help me. Please," he whispered to her, pushing his forehead against hers in efforts to hide his tears.

"We need to get him help, fast. Let's go," Danny finally spoke up, earning a slightly confused look from Merritt.

A very long ten minutes later found the four horseman in their rundown apartment, Jack sitting on the couch with Merritt, Danny frantically looking for a first aid kid, and Lula scanning through their library for anything medical-related.

Jack continuously shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the throbbing pain emanating from his wound coursing throughout his body making sitting still impossible. Merritt sat on the coffee table in front of him, painstakingly watching Jack go through the silent torture. Finally, he reached out and grabbed Jack's good arm, looking into his eyes. Jack ceased all his movement, snapping his absent-minded gaze up to Merritt. His eyes lacked their usual attentiveness, as they had been drugged by the agony.

"Hey. Try to relax. They're coming, alright?" he said encouragingly. He didn't wholeheartedly believe his own words, but he couldn't stand to watch the kid squirm until the other horsemen returned. "Danny or Lula will be back soon, and then you'll be good, okay?"

As if on cue, Daniel raced up the stairs with the medkit in hand. He pulled up a chair from the dining table and situated himself beside the arm of the couch.

"Ready?" he asked Jack, his gaze on the injured member as soft and comforting as he could manage. His usual serious and sarcastic ways had been subdued by his brotherly instinct to care for Jack.

Jack took a deep breathe in and nodded, wanting for nothing more than the throbbing pain to end. Danny laid out a white towel on the arm of the couch, then reaching over to gingerly grip Jack's elbow in his hand. Jack flinched at first, but then relaxed into Danny's touch and allowed him to guide his arm onto the towel. He then set the medkit down, also on the arm of the chair, opening it and examining its contents.

"Alright…" he mumbled, searching through the kit. Finally, he found a small bottle of water, several bottles of ointment, some type of spray, a large bandage, and gauze.

Taking his eyes away from the medkit, Danny looked up at Jack again. "Still ready?"

Jack's eyes had widened with each new item Danny pulled out of the medkit, fear and apprehension of what was to come increasing. "Uhh…." he replied, daunted by the extensive medical supplies.

"Jack, I'm not gonna lie: you're _really_ not gonna like me for the next ten minutes," Danny told him reluctantly, noticing his apparent concern sparked by the supplies. "But I know I'm not your favorite person to start with," he added, a slight smirk upon his lips.

A small smile cracked Jack's pained and worried facade. He took in a wavering breath and let it out, closing his eyes for a few moments. Opening his eyes, he met Danny's soft gaze. "Go ahead."

Danny returned the small smile, but it soon vanished as he grabbed the bottle of water to begin treating the burns. He felt his stomach turn a little, as this was the first close-up look he had gotten at Jack's injuries. He cringed at how deep the burns seemed to go and how red and raw the skin around them appeared. Jack _really_ wasn't going to be happy about this.

Watching Danny examine the burns and seeing his reaction, Jack turned away, realizing that seeing Danny's apprehensions form was not helping his own. He stared down at his own hand, trying to fascinate himself with it to distract from whatever Danny planned to do. He began to examine his own palm, tracing the lines in his skin, when a sudden sting of pain overwhelmed him. The hot, burning sensation tingled throughout his arm, the agony spreading. He gasped loudly, shutting his eyes and clenching his teeth to cage and straggling cries from escaping. As soon as the pain had subsided slightly, he dared to open his eyes and look over at Danny.

"Jack….it was just water," Danny said sheepishly, guilt etched on his face.

"That was just….water?" he questioned, not about to believe that whatever caused the torture to his arm as merely water.

Danny held up the small dropper bottle and pushed out a small drop onto his hand, showing Jack the clear liquid. "Water," he said again.

"Great," Jack muttered, tossing his head back on the couch. He let out a defeated sigh and continued to stare back down at his palm.

As guilty as Danny felt for being responsible for Jack's pain, he knew he had to continue. "Ready?"

 _No, just cut the freaking thing off._

"Yeah."

The burning began again, a now familiar feeling but none the less excruciating. Breathing through clenched teeth, Jack balled his other hand into a fist, squeezing so hard his knuckles turned ghostly white. He inhaled sharply but softly as Danny began to dab the burn with a wipe, spreading the water throughout the laceration.

"Okay, all done there," Danny announced as Jack felt the cloth being lifted. He breathed out heavily, not aware that he had been holding his breath.

"Thank god," Jack said, barely above a whisper. He felt as if all of his energy had been drained within the past two minutes.

"Get ready, this is gonna be worse," Danny mumbled, capping the water and placing another small bottle in his hand, this one looking like a spray bottle.

"Can't wait," Jack replied, letting his head hang down and returning his eyes to his palm. Before he had time to fathom apprehensions, a searing pain ripped through his arm, penetrating deep into the burn. He let out a small cry, squeezing his eyes shut with such force that it seemed as if his eyelids would rip.

 _I really don't like you right about now, Danny._

The line of spray then increased its strength, bringing forth a whole new level of agony. Jack's eyes shot open, and, without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Merritt's hand, whom had been sitting in front of him on the coffee table the entire time. He cemented his fingers around mentalists' palm, his grip sinking into the skin.

Merritt was taken aback some, but then found some happiness that Jack had looked to him for comfort.

Jack continued to squeeze Merritt's hand, the grip becoming tighter as the pain increased. His breathing was beginning to sound labored, as if the air wasn't reaching his lungs. Noticing this, Merritt placed a finger under Jack's chin and tilted his head so he could meet his eyes.

"Hey. Look at me. _Look_ at me," he whispered, as Jack opened his eyes. Merritt's heart broke as he watched a single tear travel down Jack's cheek that he knew he had been trying so hard to conceal. Jack stared at him through broken eyes, not used to drowning, and unfamiliar with the feeling of vulnerability.

"Breathe, kid. It'll be over soon. You gotta breathe, though, okay? Can you do that for me?" Merritt said softly, calmingly, soothingly. Jack found comfort in his words, temporarily taking him away from the hell he was currently in. His breathing slowly regulated, normal inhales and exhales resurfacing.

Merritt smiled. "Good. There you go. In….Out. In...Out."

Jack's posture relaxed, not as stiff and hunched as before, but still not entirely comfortable. Eyes still wet, he looked back to Merritt, then back down to his hand strangling the mentalist's. His grip has lessened, but was still that of a nervous child holding their parent's hand.

"Okay. All done. I'm just going to bandage it."

Jack had never been so relieved to hear Danny's voice.

 _Thank god._

His grip then again weakened, but he didn't let go. Although he was extremely tired and still in a considerable amount of pain, he did not plan on letting Merritt's hand breathe just yet.

Jack felt a large bandage being placed over the cut, slightly flinching at the contact. He watched as Danny maliciously aligned the gauze with the end of the bandage, then strategically wrapped it around his arm, starting by his wrist, going down near the elbow, then back to the wrist where he eventually cut the gauze and taped it down.

Danny felt Jack scrutinizing his make-shift doctoral procedure, meeting his curious gaze. "Is that good?" he asked, mostly sincerely but partially joking.

"Yeah," Jack replied, slightly flustered.

Danny smiled, glad it was over, too. He then packed up the medkit, sealing it shut and placing it on the floor. He then looked back to Jack. "Get some sleep," he said to Jack curtly, then stood up and proceeded to leave.

Jack nodded, his head heavy with exhaustion. He looked down to his gauzed arm and then back at Danny as he was walking away. "Thank you," he said quietly. Danny turned back, a smile a little too big for his face making its debut. He quickly suppressed it and gave a quick nod instead, leaving the room. Jack let out his own goofy grin as well.

Being brought back to the moment, he realized that his hand was still in Merritt's, now limply laying there, as opposed to strangling.

"Thank you."

 **Well, there you go! I tried to improve my writing on this one so let me know how I did. Read and review please! I don't know if I'll do a second chapter yet; if I get enough interest I will. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in such a long time.**

 **Also, I forgot to acknowledge that the idea for this story came from a guest user, so thank you to them!**

 **Another note: As I mentioned in my other story, my medical knowledge is slim to none, so please excuse all the inaccuracies.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

 _Flames. Hot. Burning._

 _Jack struggled to crawl out of the burning building, his entire body taken over by the searing heat. He could see the doorway. Only a few feet away._

 _Close._

 _He was nearly at the opening, freedom and relief in sight, as a beam from the ceiling of the building came cascading down. It landed with a thud so deafening that it challenged the loud crackles and pops of the flames._

 _Feeling his hope drain from him, Jack looked up to the ceiling where the beam had come from. Suddenly, another one was descending upon him._

 _Three feet from his head_

 _Two._

 _One._

He awoke with a loud gasp, shooting up from the couch. Panicked eyes surveying the room, he realized where he was and began to calm down as the familiar furniture and walls came into his sight.

Just a dream, just a dream, he repeated in his head.

After the adrenalin had dripped from his body, he became aware of the throb emanating from his arm. Wincing profusely, he raised his bandaged limb up to his eyes, sighing at the blood seeping through the white wrap. He spread his fingers out and then made a fist, just then realizing how much the injury had reduced his strength. He clenched his teeth as he did this, trying to suppress a small cry from escaping his lips and waking the other horsemen.

"Jack?"

The sleight jumped at the voice, soon recognizing it to be the tired croak of J. Daniel Atlas. He strained his eyes to look through the darkness until he made out Danny's lanky silhouette approaching the coach.

"Are you ok?" Danny asked, slowly sitting down next to Jack.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Jack answered wearily, just above a whisper. "Just a bad dream."

Danny nodded, showing more sympathy than Jack had ever seen from him. It was strangely comforting.

"How's your arm?" Danny asked, reaching over to the bandage.

Jack recoiled slightly, not wanting to worsen the already throbbing pain. However, the brisk movement sent new waves of agony, making him wince. Danny stopped his reach and looked up at Jack.

"Not good, I assume," he said softly, noting the pained reaction. He met Jack's eyes, fear-ridden and exhausted with pain.

Jack nodded. "Yeah... It hurts..." he croaked, words lacking their usual sharpness.

"A lot?"

"...Yeah."

"Can I see?"

Jack met Danny's eyes, the same fear and apprehension present. Despite this, he nodded slowly.

Danny smiled weakly. He continued his reach and gently gripped Jack's hand, leading the arm to his leg and then resting it there. He gingerly cradled the scorched limb, gazing concernedly at the red stains.

Jack let out a small gasp at the movement, sounding more like a squeak than a pained inhale.

"Sorry," Danny mumbled with guilt.

"No, it-it's ok," Jack said hoarsely, fighting to keep the pain from entering his speech.

Danny returned his focus to Jack's arm. He lightly brushed his fingers over the bandage, his concern growing when they returned damp with red.

"Can we go to the table? I need to rebandage it."

Without a word, Jack extended his good arm towards Danny who stood up, grabbed Jack's hand, and slowly pulled him to his feet. He swayed a bit at first, and once dizziness stopped harassing his vision, he followed Danny into the other room.

Danny flicked the light switch, only powering the single light that hung above the circular table. The two sat down near each other, the med kid that Danny had used the previous night awaiting their arrival.

Jack laid his bandaged arm out in front of him, slowly lowering it until it made contact with the tabletop. He grimaced at the movement, relieved when his arm was finally rested on the surface.

Opening the med kit, Danny retrieved the roll of gauze, a few large bandaids and some wipes. He then looked to Jack as if to tell him that he was ready. Jack returned the gaze, his eyes present, but his mind far-off.

A flinch rattled through Jack as Danny reached out and gently laid his fingers on the bandage. Locating the end of it, he began unwrapping the gauze, elevating Jack's arm above the table.

"Shit, Jack," Danny muttered. The bandaids that he had placed over the wound last night were drowned in blood, the red substance still flowing lazily from the burns.

Jack sighed and rested his head on his good arm, head titled but eyes remaining on the burn.

Danny slowly removed each of the soaked bandaids, fishing each out of the pool of red.

The sight was beginning to make Jack's stomach turn, so he focused his attention elsewhere. His eyes fell upon the clock on the wall. 3:17.

"Danny?"

He looked up from his work like an interrupted surgeon, although he wasn't annoyed, just surprised at Jack's voice.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you-" Jack inhaled sharply and let out a small gasp. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment but then forced them back open to see what had caused the spike in pain.

Danny looked up at him reluctantly, but continued to dab the wipe into the wound in efforts to sop up some of the blood.

"Why... Why are you up...so late?" Jack continued, labored breathing due to the agony. Danny was still forcing cotton into the burn to capture the blood, but Jack had gotten used to the pain, which was now more of a severe discomfort.

Acknowledging the question, Danny shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know, I just couldn't sleep-" he reached for a bandaid "-and it sounded like something was wrong so I came out to see..." He trailed off at the end, not wanting to further explain.

"Shit, did I wake you up? I'm sorry," Jack replied sheepishly.

"No, no, you didn't. I was already up..." Danny ended the sentence as if there was something to come after, but he decided at the last minute to conceal it.

He pretended to be very focused on the gauze pads, as he could feel Jack's questioning gaze on him.

"Why were you-" another pained gasp interrupted him as the gauze was placed deeper into the open wound "-up? I know there's a reason."

Danny let out a defeated breathe, realizing Jack had figured out that there was something else.

"Because... This is my fault. _This_ -" -he gestured to the large red lick of the flame- "-is because I yelled at you to go do something productive because of the goddamn control freak that I am and you ended up charring your arm and now you're in pain and there's nothing I can do. Okay? That's why I was up."

Jack stared at him, astonished at the rambling outburst he had just received. After a moment of gathering his thoughts, Jack broke the heavy silence that a 3am conversation entails.

"It's not your fault. Really. Yeah, you can be a dick when you order us around, but this is _not_ your fault. You didn't tell me to go be an idiot and stick my arm in fire. You didn't personally turn that machine on yourself. This was an accident, that's all. It wasn't anyone's fault."

Jack's early astonished expression was now mirrored on Daniel, expect amplified. He was taken back by the wise words coming from the usual jovial and immature Jack, the kid they all loved to tease and baby. Returning from his thoughts, Daniel smiled his gratitude at Jack, letting out a small laugh to fill the silence.

Danny finished placing the bandages on the burn and then reached for the gauze. He began down by Jack's elbow and started making his way up towards his wrist. As he pulled the gauze over the bandage, Jack winced slightly and held his breath.

"Too tight?" Danny asked worriedly.

Jack shook his head. "No, it's fine, just still hurts a little," he admitted.

"Yeah, _a little_ ," Danny teased, smirking slightly.

Jack returned the grin, which was soon covered by another grimace and eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry, I'm almost done," Danny mumbled, speeding up the last few wraps around Jack's arm.

"Thank...you."

Finishing the bandage, Danny cut the gauze and smoothed it down, then placed the roll in the med kit. He lifted it up and carried it into the other room, returning shortly.

Offering his hand to Jack, Danny pulled him to his feet like before, and they retraced their path back to the couch.

Jack sat down slowly, cognizant of the placement of his arm. He opted to rest it gently in his lap to reduce the jostling.

Watching him carefully, Danny was happy to see a signifiant reduction in the grimaces and gasps that Jack had suffered from before. However, he still appeared to be in discomfort, but nonetheless, progress had been made.

"How is it feeling?" Danny asked, folding his arms over his chest like a worried parent.

"It's better," Jack replied, looking up at Danny who was practically hovering over him. "I think it's more sore than anything."

Danny nodded, agreeing with what had been said. "It'll be like that for a while. And you'll have a pretty nasty scar."

Jack shrugged. "I can live with that."

Smiling at his optimism, Danny unfolded his arms from his chest and shoved them into his pockets, assuming a more relaxed position. They looked at each other through the darkness (to which their eyes has adjusted) for a few awkward moments before Daniel spoiled the quiet.

"Well...I'm gonna go back to bed. If you need anything, you know where my room is. Night."

He turned and began making his way to his room when Jack's voice cut through the silence: "Will you stay with me?"

Danny faced Jack again, surprised yet delighted at the question, and glad that the darkness was somewhat hiding his childish grin.

He moved back across the room and hovered over the couch until Jack slid over to allow him to sit down. Jack then rested his head on Danny's leg, keeping his arm close by his side.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Danny smiled down at him, hoping that Jack would feel his grin.

"Just don't tell Merritt."

"Awww look at them," Lula whispered, entering the living room with Merritt the next morning.

Daniel had slumped over on the arm of the couch, and Jack had curled into his side. They were both sleeping peacefully, seemingly enjoying each other's company even in their sleep.

Merritt smiled at the two.

"Ten bucks says Danny didn't want me to see this."

Daniel opened his eye slightly, having been listening for the past few minutes.

"Go away, Merritt."

 **There you go! Hope you enjoyed the story. I know the ending was a little cliché and predictable, but I felt that it was the best way to end the story.**

 **Please read and review; it's greatly appreciated. Also, thank you to all the support and kind reviews that you've already given.**

 **If you have any ideas for another story, PLEASE let me know. I'd be happy to hear! If I do end up using your idea, I will be sure to give you credit.**

 **Thank you again!**


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